


The Stupid Fucking Adventures Of A Stoner Errant

by MissyMistress



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Light Bondage, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Modern Boy in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Recreational Drug Use, Social Justice, Swearing, eldritch Fade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24248485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyMistress/pseuds/MissyMistress
Summary: When 21 year old Rome sat down to chill and watch some youtube Dragon Age theories after smoking a bowl, he didn't exactly expect to be blinked into the story like a bad shroom trip. He also certainly didn't expect to throw a bucket at Corphytits head, and end up with a Marked and stinging nettle cover hand. He also never expected in a hundred thousand years to be surrounded by very sexy warrior women. God help him
Relationships: One-sided Male Inquisitor/ Varric Tethras, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	1. The Many Joys Of Plants And Panic

_ Fucking christ did that hurt. _

_ Jesus shitting christ. _

If I knew that gate latch would get stuck every single time that stupid string fell out of the tube screwd and wired into the top of the gate I would have… I was going to say I would have fixed it ages ago but that would be a lie. 

Still doesn’t make it any less annoying having to shimmy my weak 5’2 ass up the side of my deck, making sure to get my bare feet on the slight under hanging where the fencing breaks like a discount Assassins Creed cosplayer to grab it and string it through. And it would be just my luck to have to do it high as a kite, in the dark. Love that for me. 

But at least it’s done and despite the sore stitch in my arm from haughling my fat ass up I can still grab the stinging nettle from where it’s growing up against the shop. Hopefully it won't poke through the extra baggy shirt I’m using to snatch it but with how my luck is at the moment I should just prepare to shove my hand in calamine lotion. 

If I had any sense in my head I’d save this for the morning but nooooo I just had to get it in my little pea brain to make some Smutten cream for my dad’s bumb knee at 3 am. Not like it takes three hours to make and I’m probably going to light our house on-

_ FUCK _

“Okay you know what I’m done. I’ve got needles in my poor thumbs, and I’m just going to give up while I’m ahead and go inside and throw you” I mutter, side eyeing the prickly plant with contempt, “in a jar with the rest of the ingredients so I can go inside and enjoy whatever is left of my high.”

* * *

“Thank god for calamine lotion”, I think to myself, cuddled on my tiny shitty daybed. 

My lovely kingdom that is my bed barely has enough room to fit my lemon of a gaming laptop, my fat stuffed carrot plushie, my body pillow, and the 150 pounds of sulky trans guy that is myself. 

It was so late it was almost early, safe from prying and over emotional family members, and blessedly cold with my window open. All in all a perfect night despite my earlier adventure. 

The orange glow off of my laptop’s monitor to the left of my goose pimpled chest was currently showing me about 24 open chrome tabs, only one of which looked somewhat interesting at the moment. 

“4 am and I’m reading a 151 chapter Naruto Reincarnation fanfic. Looks like I’m not sleeping again tonight, lads.” I mused to myself, heaving a sigh and moving so my battered hands rested more comfortably on my bare tummy. 

Though honestly, I’d been plugging away at this for long enough I think. Aside from the way my neck hurt from where it was propped up on my 3 pillows, I was getting bored of how the characters were straying from the plot into some weird filler arches. I’m not as much of a fan of the anime as I was of the manga, weird alien ending and all.

Mind straying from the words on my screen I couldn’t help but think that maybe it was time to either sleep (not likely with how my mind was still churning away like a storm at sea), or find something on youtube to put on (to distract said sea storm and hopefully give me enough quiet to let me sleep).

I debated between those options while stretching my shoulders, arms behind my head, before eventually deciding to go ahead and ruin my sleep schedule more. It’s not like it matters one way or the other when I get to sleep, as due to the Rona I had nothing to do tomorrow anyway and my dad’s cancer treatments weren’t due to start up again til monday.

Clicking on the youtube tab I had open, I hit the home button to bring up any new videos to the now weeks old page. Two true crime videos discussing various ongoing kidnapping cases with photographs of the kids, one new spooky gameplay video from manly badass hero, three drama channel videos going on about- club penguin? What the fuck? and 

_ Oh _

_ Neat! _

A Dragon Age 4 speculation video from a channel called Mythrallz.

I’ve seen some speculation on Tumblr about what’s happening with the Chantry and if the Maker could be part of the Blight that Andraste grew up around and eventually it “called” her into doing the whole let’s fuck up Tevinter. Interesting theory that sounded as likely as anything the writers at Bioware could come up with, coupled with the cool name “Andraste: Bride of the Monster” I found myself quite the fan of the new theory.

Wonder if this has any new theories like that, and what cannon evidence they used. I also wonder about the new dragon age dedicated channel as I know most of the larger DA theorists and chewing on the inside of my lip with my big old buck teeth, I hasteing to click it.

As I do, a sharp pain reverberates through my left hand on the track pad causing me to grab it back from where my laptop had been sitting,and everything goes black.

_ Whomst???? Did my laptop just shit the bed again???? Also christ that hurt, I’m never grabbing nettle without proper gloves again, shit fucking sucks. _

_ Thimp , thimp thimp.  _ My left arm slid around under the blankets, knocking some of the dried pink lotion I had put on as soon as I got inside.

_ Wait where the fuck is it.  _ My arm managed to feel the entirety of the left side of my mattress without wacking into my clunker, a feat that I had never managed despite the many blind groping I had to do to find my laptop, phone, or in one memorable occasion a wayward vibrator I had forgotten to put back in a drawer.

_ Okay, it’s fine. My laptop must have just fallen off the bed onto a blanket or some clothes on the floor and that’s why it’s gone with absolutely no sound accompanying it’s swift and startling diaspearence. It’s Fiiiine. No need to panic.  _

_ Phone, phone, need my light so I don’t step on it, wherever it ended up. _

It took what felt like two hours in high-and-extreme-panic time but was, in actuality, more like two to four seconds of shifting three different blankets of various thickness off and on my naked chest before I found my phone under my armpit to turn on it’s flashlight.

  
  


_ Oh. Huh. Either I fell asleep while reading that fic or I’ve finally had that mental break Gavin’s been joking with me about during therapy.  _

Light streaked from my phone, Illuminating thick cut stone which greets me a foot from my blanket nest on the floor. That was definitely the part of my daybed not pushed up against a wall, and I am definitely on the floor and Not in said daybed. 

_ Huh _

_ Okay Okay Okay Okay Okay. _

_ So.  _

I shuffle my little bed bug body to look at the other side of the room, leaning my weight onto a knobby elbow. Tilting my phone light in my right hand with me, I see more stone walls, a couple of wooden buckets stacked into each other on a big wooden barrel, and a shitty looking wooden door with a heavy metal ring pull that’s giving me splinters just looking at it. I quickly made sure that my flashlight wasn't pointed near the crack between the floor and the door, hoping that I could maybe peek into the next room without alerting anyone anywhere in this freaky new place I’ve been spirited away to.

“Now is the Hour of our Victory.” A deep voice rings out, like honey and stones and close enough that I feel like he’s mere steps from my little bolt hole.

_ Fuck that’s a loud voice. How can I hear them from this stone- Closet? Storage? Oh this has to be a dream… just has too, right? Definitely. Fucking. Cunt. Shit. Dick.  _

Okay, no worries. We’ll deal. We got this. Uh. I just need to see what’s going on before I join “The Hour of our Victory” in the next room, sounds like quite the party. 

_ No this cold ass stone definitely feels real on my arms. Love army crawling to a door while rapping a blanket around your chest because this shit is too weird and creepy not to just stand up and- _

“ Why are you doing this? You of all people?”

“Keep the Sacrifice Still”

Hnnnnn that sounds. Not Good. So there’s an old? ish Lady with a really fakie sounding french accent, and Deep Voice guy… Maybe they’re rehearsing for RenFaire and this is all a big misunderstanding… Ignoring the fact that every single one was canceled, and everyone has been stuck inside for months 

Fuuuuck. What the fuck happend. This has to be a delusion right? Like, I’ve never had a visual hallucination before and my auditory ones mostly stick to my mom calling out to me when I know she’s asleep or not home but this has to be what it is? You don’t just go from sitting in you bed chilling to being in yee olde storage closet. That’s not how reality works. Unless I dissociated and ended up here and can’t remember???

Fuck it. Is it better to apologize for running in and making things awkward, run in there like an idiot with that bucket over head, or try to be as fast as possible while making as little as much noise and seeing if I can see what the fuck it going on?

Tick tock I don’t have no time! So Trauma Child is choosing option number 3, Come Collect Your Prize.

The stone flooring thankfully means that I don’t have to worry about the creaking of wood, but I do take care to tread lightly enough that my feet don’t slap against the floor. I grab the bucket, sliding the child sized fingers of my right fitting under the edge near the bottom while my left grabs the metal handle near the top.

“Weapon” in hand I nudge the door open with my hip, taking care to open it quietly and only so much I can fit half of my face to pier around outside.

Ah. That is a Big Glowing Red Man. With A Glowing Green Orb. And About Four People In ACTUAL ARMOR. And Miss Weird Accent is in Chantry Robes. 

The feelings I’m feeling cannot be described with mortal words. I’m too high to deal with this and I don’t think I could be dealing with this any better sober because I’ve got my head peeking out of a door, looking at Mr Big And Red in his room full of bullshit and only one other exit being those big fuck off doors to the left of this cluster fuck.

And I hope Big and Red is wearing prosthetics or stage makeup or fucking stilts because otherwise that dude has hella jacked shoulders with feather pauldrons and the world's thinnest little arms with claws all on a body that has to be 8 feet tall. 

God, that awful ear hurting noise that green shit is making, so close to that old lady. Do I step in? It’s probably going to kill her. Oh my god, please please let someone nearby hear this. He’s got to be like 8 feet of ugly and there’s those other dudes IN ACTUAL ARMOUR and all I have is a bucket and flannel pj pants. 

Despite my fear and self preservation instinctsI can’t help myself from flinching when I hear her cry out, and before she can even finish screaming for someone to help her, I’m out the door and darting so fast I feel I’m flying the 10 steps I need to yeet the bucket at Big And Reds head.

It sails through the air and clunks off of the dude's upper back and neck, missing the middle to top of the head I was initially aiming for.

_ Shit Cunt. _

The light leaps from the orb onto the old lady, and now I have 4 sets of eyes plus Mr Big And Red turning to look at me with a snarl.

“Kill the Intruder!”

Just as I feel the beginnings of the peace that comes with the knowledge that you're in a fight you won’t be walking away from, the large door opens in the room with… Is that Corypheus!?!?! He has melted fucking skin oh my god I’m going to vomit. 

Out steps a fucking elf? Like with pointed ears. And fuckin, Vasalin or whatever. Which is not exactly the most pressing thing going on because what the shiiiit that man has like weird skin???? Over top of his red armour???? Is that red lyrium?!?!?

“What’s going On Here!?” Screams the elf, Girl? In an assertive and vaguely sexy voice. Oh, I get horny when I’m in mortal danger. Good to know.

“He’s killing her! He’s Killing HER!” A screak fills the air, pain ripping into my lungs and throat- wait was someone else in here? When did a ten year old girl show up? 

Granny, which must be Justinia, The Most Holy, The fucking Divine herself, kicks the orb from Corypheus’ grasp.

Fuck if that’s Cory in the house, and that’s Justinia, then that’s Solas’ orb. If that hits the ground we die.. Right? Fuck I always skipped past the memories in the fade or I never reached them. In every play though I just accepted I knew what was going on and it’s been ages since I played this bit.

“Grab It!!!” I squeal, with the sheer panic that comes with knowing this monster just dropped a nuke out of his (literally) god damned hands.

I dive to the side, skin on the side of my torso and hip skidding noisily along the floor giving me that lovely rug burn feeling and hoping and praying to whatever deity that could exist that Lavellan? The elf. Would either help or watch my back because ohmygodweresogonnadieeeee.

The palm of my left hand hits the orb like a baseball into a glove, making the nettle sting from earlier this night feel like the cheeky bite of a tender lover. My hand contracts like a dead frog being pumped full of electricity, fingers twitchily unable to stop clutching as much of the orb as I can reach..

I am so beyond this world in my pain that the shuffle of Corypheus and Lavellan, both rushing towards me, feels like a mix of background elevator music and the we’ll be right back meme.

Imagine the worst pain you have ever felt in your life, a finger jammed in the door, cramps that you’re sure are your appendix bursting, the flutter skip of your ribs against a too tight binder worn for 12 hours. Now triple it a thousand times. You would feel about a tenth of what I feel as the world turns blindingly bright, and Lavellan lands smack dab on top of my ribs. 


	2. Lovecraft in Brooklyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain, Panic, and Magic. Cassandra being sweet due to not thinking I killed her kinda mom. Thank you to the person who subscribed to this story! This is for you UwU

Huh. I don’t think I was meant to remember that shit. In fact I know one hundred percent that I’m not supposed to remember that. Don’t seem to remember the Fade though. 

_ Which sucks because I have absolutely no idea what happened to Lavellan and now I’m going to be shouted at and I’m about to start crying and could use some backup.  _

I quickly take stock of the room I’m in while the mark flares wildly in my hand, shooting sparks of cold burns into my arm that's been clad in a rough-spun but warm shirt and heavy double quilted -coat? Ugh, that thing that Blackwall wears. The glowing green scab casts a sickly green glow on the sunburst set into the stone beneath my beaten leather boot covered feet. I can feel more than see a scout behind me and to my left along with the four standing with swords drawn towards me, observing me in the flickering light of a brazier somewhere behind me. I vaguely recognized this to be the area underneath the Chantry in Haven where you can pick up some kind of codex, or maybe a helm? 

At least they had the kindness to give me a coat and something for my feet. Hopefully I won't have to be running around the Frostbacks in this for too long later or I might have some truly gnarly blisters because I don’t think I’m wearing socks and while I love being barefoot it’s different when having to walk the length and breadth of a fucking mountain. 

Just as I was leaning against the metal stock hoping to ease my pain from the flair up, the door in front of me swings open violently, and Casandra fucking Pentaghast moves towards me with momentum and purpose I’ve only seen in movies where someone gets their heads chopped off, Leliana a silky shadow behind her. All at once my lovely little honour guard sheaths their swords and stands at attention. 

The Seeker strides around me circling towards my back, my eyes darting between her and Leliana in hopes to see the blade that will (hopefully) not end me where I crouch. Her armour shifts and clinks under her defenders coat as she forces her way into my personal space from my blind spot behind me. I’m as able to keep from flinching and some tears from escaping as a broken pot is able to hold water, she’s behind me oh god I’m going to start shaking. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you now. The conclave is destroyed.” she growls coming to stand in front of me, thank god for small mercies “Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” She points a gloved hand into my face. 

“Where is the elf I was with? I don’t know what’s going on, but we were trying to save the Most Holy and now I’m here. I refuse to say more until I know you haven’t killed her!” I spit out, trying to keep from freezing with fear while also trying to keep my head enough that Leliana can’t find anything misspoken or against what they know to hold against me.

“Saving the Most Holy? From what, who?!” Cassandra exclaims, shocked out of her line of questioning, warm brown eyes popping wide, making her face seem younger than her 30 or so years. 

“You dare act as if you hold power here? In chains and at our mercy?” Leliana interjects in her lilting not French accent, shifting closer to where I’m standing. Her tone is cool as ice and just as forgiving.

“Yes.” I say setting my jaw, both against their questioning and the raw fear taking root in my gut like bad shellfish. 

“You Will tell us-” Cassandra marches towards me with all the pomp of someone used to quick answers, grabbing on to my shoulders and jarring me from my unsteady squat on the floor. I ever so kindly eat shit on the ground, falling backwards onto my ass due to the momentum that she pushed me with, while Leliana steps forward to pull her away.

“Be careful, Cassandra! We need her alive... for now.” She then turns her shrewd eye to me.

_Ew ew ew. Not a her. Not that I’m exactly going to say that because big ass swords are definitely enough of a threat and while I know Thedas doesn't seem to have_ _much transphobia I’m sure as fuck not testing it out right this moment. Maybe I should try to sneak in any masc pronouns I can later._

“There was an elf found with you. She’s not dead, and is being kept in a nearby cell. If you tell us more we’ll make sure you are reunited in short order” Leliana continued levelly, unaware or perhaps simply observing and ignoring my discomfort.

“Not good enough, I see her whole and hale first. You could be lying to get me to give up whatever bargaining power I have here and I refuse to let you hurt her or me for trying to help” I wager in as steady a voice as I can, doing my damnedest to put forth the face of a man innocent of any crimes.

_ Luckily enough I am one, unless you count knowing too much for my own good a crime, and knowing that at any point this mark could kill me and whose fault this whole shindig is. One of them could easily get tired of this and put the swords they hold at their side through me, but I’ve got the Mark and the answers that promise safety while Lavellan hopefully and horrifically doesn’t. She’s a lone Dalish elf surrounded by Chantry folk and I fear for her safety more than I fear for mine at this point, though not necessarily from these two. _

“Very well, you” Leliana nods her head, expression frozen into the nightmarish face of the Nightingale, at the man behind me, “Go retrieve the other prisoner from her cell.”

The scout quickly shuffles into one of the rooms far beyond my line of sight with a clang of metal, as I keep my eyes on the Right and Left Hands of the Divine.

In either seconds or minutes scrapes resound through the hall, and the scout drags Lavellan yowling and bucking into the room. He throws her down beside me like an angry sack of potatoes. I move to cushion as much of her landing as possible, swinging my legs out from where they're pulled up near my chest so she lands on my thick thighs. I feel her bulk crash into my thigh mostly in the middle of my femur, like when a friend whose too drunk or high trips over you at a party while you’re too busy eating to actually catch them. 

A quick scan of her face where it landed half in my lap and half over shot onto the floor shows that she’s banged up like she's been in a bar fight with dark purple discoloration under the tattoos- Or roughed up by angry humans. She’s in stocks similar to mine and doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get her head out of my lap but doesn't seem to have been tortured. Thank God, she doesn’t deserve to be harmed for the stumbling mess I’ve made of the plot. 

“Are you okay, Miss?” I mutter to her, trying to cover her with as much of my body as possible without putting the stocks over her head which is unbelievably awkward, and end up just leaning my shoulders and back forward to try to cover where her red haired and tattooed face landed on my lap. I also try to make it clear that I’m not super familiar with her via body language but who knows if I’m selling the emotions right. This isn’t exactly a lie I’ve practiced, like "no sir I’m definitely not high in class", or "oh sorry sir my gym clothes must still be in the wash guess I better walk today".

_ Best to start working on a cover story now, better to have all your ducks and lie/stories planned out in such a way that a different story spoken later by someone else won’t send your house of cards tumbling down. And what better basis for a lie than the truth. I don’t know why this elf was at the Conclave, but I care about people around me to hope she’s okay. True enough and can give me a skeleton to work with later.  _

A grunt escapes Lavellan’s mouth, angry and suspicious green eyes shifting from our assembled jailers to me above her.

“You’ve been reunited with your accomplice, now. Start talking.” Cassandra bites out, pulling her teeth back in a snarl that transforms her beautiful face into something fierce, drawing my attention to her jaw scar which looked more pronounced.

I shift my eyes from the elf to look at Cassandra’s brow bone attempting to harden my stare but mostly sure that my foolhardy courage would fail me now that I have someone else to lean on. Quite literally in this case, with all the squishy bits of my torso pressed to the back of Lavellan's head.

_ Fuck, I need to cover for the fact that I was mostly nude when they found me. And I should probably see if I can cover Lavellan at the same time. Was it the left side that was the side that you look to when using the creative side of your brain or right. Shit. Just keep looking forward? Play the act of the embarrassed fop caught in the middle of a romp? Okay shy body language, I can do that. Don’t give away what they didn’t ask for, either, that’s a sign of lying. _

“This young lady and I were… being acquainted with one another” here I force myself to blush,  _ come on, think of that time my bathing suit came off in front of everyone while going down a water slide during a class trip in grade 8 _ . “When we heard- shouting. From the closet I and erm… sorry I don’t think I caught your name before we we’re about to uhhhhh” I turn towards Lavellan, hoping that if she remembered what happened she’d play along, and if she didn’t remember that randomly deciding to bone down a supposed human “woman” wouldn’t be so beyond the pale that she’d object and blow our chance at making it out of here alive.

“ Ashara” British, sweet, and low came the voice from my lap. The side of her face I can see from my position looks ready to skin me but hopefully that can be played off as a tiff between one night stands.

“Ah! Lovely name, I’ll try to remember it. Ashara” I take care pronouncing the name, trying for dumb trollop and coming of more as a squeak. “ and I were in the closet when she went running out to see what the trouble is. I grabbed the nearest thing, which was a very sturdy bucket, and went to join her to see if I could be the brave young lad I had always hoped I would be-”

“Get. To. The. Point.” The Seeker ground out around teeth that I feared would break from the strain she was putting her jaw under.

“Ah. Yes. There was an 8 foot tall monster, and men in armour with some kind of strange bird thingy with two heads” I babbled out, masking the wheels that were turning within my head with each sentence I was spitting.

_ That should be enough to clue Leliana into the identity of Justinia’s captors while still being able to claim ignorance, right? It was the Wardens that had the two headed griffin bird thing as their sigil-coat of arms?… I hope? _

A sharp breath was heard from Leliana,  _ message received hopefully _ , while Cassandra’s brow scrunched together so closely I was sure they’d join together. 

“We don’t have time for this! Leliana, go to the forward camp. I will take the marked prisoner to the Rift, while our soldiers guard this one. We Will find out any involvement you had, later.” Cassandra layed out in her sexy, sexy Nevarran accent, voice as steady and hard as the stone beneath my feet all the while doing what I thought was just Bioware hand movements but I’m beginning to think is just part of who she is. Maybe it’s a cultural thing? 

_ Fuck, I was hoping that Lavellan would come along, I have no clue how to fight… but I guess it was a long shot since Cassandra would need to keep an eye on to prisoners and would be worried about being over powered by the two of us. Okay I’ll work with it. I’ll have to. _

The armoured woman inserted herself in my personal space once again. This time she approached with far less aggressive energy and knelt unlocked my stocks while ignoring Lavellan, freeing my hands.

I forced them to remain limp in the warmed metal as she helped me up by grabbing me around my thin wrists and giving me a moment to find my feet. I couldn’t hold back a twinge in my gut as I realized her one hand was pinning me in place. She quickly tied the rope she had hanging from her belt around my wrists, making sure she wasn’t cutting off the blood flow to my hands

_ That’s… kinda really hot. Fuck, not the time to be thinking about big sexy warrior ladies tying me up. _

“What do you mean, the Rift?” I ask, letting my nervousness and fear show. Hopefully she’ll look at my fear and realize I have no idea how to fight, but with what I know of her character I might need to drop more hints.

“It will be easier to show you” She tells me, voice gruff but gentle, guiding me with a hand on my shoulder from the basement we’re in to the warm Chantry above taking care not to hustle me.

_ Always knew she was a softy, and now that she knows that I tried to help Justinia she’s being extra kind. Thank god, if I had to deal with the angry wrathful Right Hand of the Divine Seeker of Truth Cassandra I’d probably be a crying little manlet puddle on the floor. _

She guides me past the small little nooks filled with barrels and grain in the main hall of the Chantry to the large doors that stand two stories high, and a scout stationed there throws the door open for us. 

I have to walk past him to leave and as I do so, I lean closer to Cassandra as she drops her hand from my arm in the hopes that the people of Haven aren’t so grief stricken and angry as to attack me on sight, and if they are that the tall warrior woman would protect me.

Also, fuck is it bright out here. I feel like I just stepped from a shittly lit cave into a damn disco. I can’t help squinting my eyes behind my glasses that thankfully have stayed on through this shit fest. 

Looking up is something beyond normal fear, beyond the acknowledgement that the world is ending and I’m the only person who can stop it, and dives into straight up Lovecraftian horror.

The sky is it’s normal self, up until it hits the deep green crackle of the edge of the Rift. The Rift itself doesn’t look like it does in game, a big mist of green energy. 

It looks like what science fiction thinks of a black hole if you added the faces of the damned shifting subtly in your vision to the parts of it you can perceive with the naked eye, including the stones and boulders the size of large houses floating up or maybe down from it’s sickly green vortex. Lucky the bottom half of the vortex string is cut off from view by the mountain range, but unlucky for me that means we’ll have to traverse said mountain range to reach the epicenter of the blast.

Some of my fear and anguish must show on my face, as Cassandra puts a gloved hand back onto my arm as she begins to speak.

“We call it “The Breach.” It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with every passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave. ” She said with the grim tone of someone acknowledging an infection set to take a leg if not a life, still holding gently onto my upper arm.

I’m grateful for her hold, as I struggle to comprehend what I’m seeing. 

“An explosion can’t do that....” I absentmindedly say, in disbelief of what I’m seeing, turning and attempting to grab her hand resting on my arm with my tied up ones for comfort.

She places her other hand on my reaching ones as she says grimly

“This one did. Unless we act, The Breach may grow until it swallows the world-”

Suddenly the mark flares in my hand, sending me mostly to my knees if for the fact that Cassandra draws her hands back from mine to put her arms around me to steady me. She quickly grabs me in her arms and hauls me up enough that I can find my feet.

She looks at me with faint worry behind a warriors steadfastness,

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. Maybe it is the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time. You said you attempted to help the Divine. If you can, help us now.”

“I will. In any way I can, but I’m no fighter, if this is a rift into the world of demons I won’t be much help in a fight against them. I’m so, so sorry.” I admit, hoping that Cassandra will send for back up so I don’t have to try and fight a shade by myself.

“I will guard you where I can, that is all I can promise.” She oaths to me in a grave tone, face just as stern. Keeping her arm around my shoulders and hustling us both through the village.

The roar of villagers, all looking at me with contempt that is only slightly lessened due to her protective hold around me. Inappropriately, the words to a song come to mind. 

_ They drag my body through the streets, indeed, lovely stupid brain. I definitely need The Mountain Goats lyrics in my head right this second.  _

“They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, whom you attempted to save. The chance for peace in the midst of this war seems to have died with her. For your attempt at saving her, if you speak the truth, I thank you. I and Leliana will attempt to find the “monster” you named as well as its accomplices. The information you gave about their coat of arms is invaluable.” The Seeker dictates, while leading me hurriedly down worn dirt roads in the village and into mountainous paths.

I’m grateful for her strength and the assurances, as it shows that I’ve avoided suspicion towards me being the cause of this clusterfuck, and hopefully buys Lavellan her freedom.

“Justinia, she brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead.” She spoke softly into my ear, obviously still grieving her quasi mother figure slash leader, before nodding to the man attending the gate to the bridge. 

“We lash out, like the sky. But we must think beyond ourselves, like She did.” Cassandra finishes her thought, looking ahead to the gathered soldiers and slowly dropping her arms from their position around me.

“Until the Breach is sealed,” She begins again, turning and drawing a dagger to cut my bindings, “I promise you will not come to harm from any of our soldiers or scouts. I can promise no more than this from this point on. There will be demons, so take this dagger in case I am unable to protect you.” Her mouth sets like a woman forced into the choice between duty and kindness.

She holds the dagger out grip first and I take it, hesitantly. 

This certainly is not the first knife I’ve held, but the athame I’d used in my craft where either blessed kitchen knives, blunted but pretty pieces of sea glass, or kitschy blunt gothic dragon knives one would get from Green Earth. None of them held the weight that the live blade did in my hand, and I could tell that my form would cause Leliana or Zevran to cry.

_ Thinking of my attempts at Earth magic, I hope that translates into being a Thedas mage. While the idea of being shoved into a tower for the rest of my life, and likely beaten or worse, is definitely not appealing I didn’t spend my life from the age of twelve learning as much as I could of different beliefs and magic systems to end up twirling daggers. Guess I’ll only know when I meet Solas, or if I try something simple like a barrier. Better work on a cover story for that. I’m thinking third child or bastard of a very minor Fereldan noble that died when the Blight hit if no magic, and loner hedge mage that’s helped brothels for cash and being kept in fine things if magic.  _

“Come, It’s not far,” Cassandra says while lowering my frozen hands from where they sit like dried corn stalks in the air to rest next to my side.

I follow her, attempting to avoid looking at the bodies lined up on the bridge, and quickly entering the weirdly huge doors on the other side of the bridge.

_ Huh this place is weirdly set up wellish to avoid sieges… though I guess that makes sense since those are things that actually happen here. Close off the door and you’d have a pretty good bottle neck.  _

I pass by the various struts and barricades, several of them with soldiers holding rank and file in case the demons make it past the various others fighting them.

Few frightened deserters run past me and Cassandra shouting about how it’s the end of the world. I can understand their fear and don’t begrudge them their cowardice. If I wasn’t the one with the mark I think I’d be cowering in the Chantry with whatever non combatants exist in this world. Nun, probably. Or should I say Sisters? Wait fuck-

Painpainpainpain

And the Seeker is right beside me again, helping me to my feet and looking worriedly at my hand.

“The pulses are coming faster now. The larger it grows, the more demons we face. We must move quickly.”

“The bridge- up ahead. I think the mark might be trying to tell me a rift is going to open up there. We need to get everyone off of there! Now!” I grab Cassandra with the hand not clutching the knife, then realize I had dropped it during my episode. Her face blanches, as she turns and yells for the soldiers to evacuate the bridge.The seven up ahead moves off it with the speed one shows when chased by Hel’s hounds. 

Just as Cassandra and I struggle to our feet, the dagger back in my right hand, the bridge ahead is struck- vaporized in the middle by a piece of fallen Fade causing the entirety of it collapses under its own weight. On the ice below, a chunk of damned hell rock explodes, turning into the shades Cassandra and I would have to fight if we were on the bridge. She turns and looks at me, shock and wonder warring on her face.

The soldiers that were on the bridge set to work on the demons in short order as she splits her attention between them and me, looking as if she’s caught between wanting to help and needing to protect me until we reach the Breach.

Thankfully enough the seven soldiers are able to easily defeat the two shades, flanking them and stabbing into their rags and flesh torsos or shooting arrows from a distance. Cassandra helps me down the incline beside the bridge, stepping down first and turning to grab my arms near my elbow to guide me down and the soldiers rush to greet us.

“Lady Seeker! Thank the Maker you got us off the bridge in time! Bless you, Seeker” one of the lady soldiers, one with a sword and shield, bleats, looking at Cassandra in awe.

“It was not me who foresaw the destruction, thank the prisoner. Without her ability to read the rifts with her mark-”

“Ah, not to cut in, but not a her. I’m a man.” I squeak, trying to force my voice to it’s usual low tones and failing spectacularly.

“Ah- my apologies. He was able to predict the rift opening up and asked me to call ahead.” The Seeker shifted awkwardly at my comment before continuing.

“We must head to the rift ahead. I would have you all join me as the prisoner has no martial skills. Your task is to protect him with your life. Now come.” She finished, tone solidifying into a woman giving marching orders. 

The soldiers fall into a rough circle around me with a “Yes, Sir!”, acting as an actual honour guard this time and not the threat that I was under earlier in the Chantry’s basement. 

We hastily move through the mountain paths, as I look for the chest that would have dropped with the bridge. 

_ Yesssss. Mage staff _ . I quickly grab it and turn to Cassandra.

“I think I’d have better luck with this than the knife, my Lady. It’ll be better for keeping the demons away from my squishy bits as I don’t have any armour to protect myself.” I call to her, hoping to go with a reasoning that doesn’t out rightly state whether I am or am not a mage. 

“You make a good point, see if you can put the dagger in your boot. There should be a buckle on the side for it. But do try not to run off, we can't protect you properly if you do.” Cassandra tells me, a hint of approval in her eyes for my quick thinking. 

I thankfully find the buckle easy enough and slide the knife into the little leather strap on my right boot. I quickly pop up and start moving with all the speed I can while carrying a staff that's roughly a head taller than me, taking care to keep the bladed ball- mace? In the air far away from my head and the focus off of the ice of the frozen lake. I manage to hold it with my right hand higher than my left, and give it a few test swings so that I know it won't fall out of my hands at first use.

We made it through the next couple of spirits without much trouble, the wraiths falling to the two lady soldiers’ blades easily while two of the five men gave support with their bows, and the remaining three formed a loose vanguard around me and helping where they can. All the while Cassandra hovered between fighting the spirits and keeping me upright over difficult terrain.

When the fighting was over we were on the move again, but not before I noticed the various ooze and fabric scraps left behind by our fallen enemies. Looks like I’ll be carrying all manner of strange monster bits to that elf- Mineve? If I survive this.

The shades near the stone steps were a bit more difficult, and I had to bid the Seeker to join in on the fight while I stayed with the archers and tried to keep an eye out for any hits that could cause permanent damage. I decided to use this moment of pause in for me to do some shielding techniques, trying to push them onto the soldiers crashing with the shades and wraiths.

_ Okay, I can do this. Intent added to words to help in times of strife. Turn the fear in your belly into power. I’ve done this for years, I can do it now. Hands on my staff, use it as a conduit not unlike using obsidian chips and sage. _

__

_ By the stars, Draco, Taurus, Lio, Lepus. I call to thee through the Fade and beseech thee to protect the fruits of my heart. Protect these seven warriors blessed by their lady Andraste from all harm. _

As I finish my thought and push my intention towards them a purple film covers the soldier head to toe. The Ouroboros necklace that only leaves my throat for showers heats under my gifted coat, warming me. It drains a bit of the fear from within me as a bit of my energy turns to exhaustion. 

_ Oh thank god that works. Never thought my energy would be purple, always figured it would be green since I field most of my power from the earth. _

I know it works as intended, because one of the archers to the left of me get hit with a spirit ball from the last remaining wraith and he wasn’t even staggered, shooting the arrow that caused the wraith’s form to finally dissipate 

With the fight no longer holding their attention, the soldiers finally take notice of the film over their bodies, giving a start with some of them beginning to raise their weapons. The two men beside me instantly drew their eyes to me, the one that wasn’t hit with the spirit bolt calling out in a panic.

“Seeker! The prisoner is a mage!”

“A mage whose only magic cast so far is a barrier to protect your fool necks, Clive!” Called one of the women beside Cassandra, one of the few who didn't raise her weapons. The Seeker’s face goes through a complicated dance before settling on determination.

“We need to get to the rift, before more demons get through. March, soldier. Your order still stands.”

With that she grabs me by the arm yet again, less gentle than before, forcing the whole group on and over more of the frozen lake. Once again we were accosted by two shades and a wraith, that were dealt with in short order without any more magical interference from me. 

I was attempting to save most of my energy for the boss fight I know was coming up, allowing my temporary companions to do most of the heavy lifting when we finally came to hear the fighting up ahead. Cassandra called out to the group as she helped rush me up the sets of stairs set into the mountain.

“ We’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?” I huff into her side, rapidly becoming out of breath from the fast pace and rough terrain.

“You’ll see soon, the men and I must help them. Stay back and cast barriers if you are able.” She says, brow creasing as she takes in my mussed state. 

She steps away from me, her and the soldiers drop down the ledge. Moving to aid Solas, Varric, and two scouts already embroiled in fighting the three shades.

I slide my ass onto the freezing cold stone and lean my legs over to jump down after them, falling on my ass in the snow below me when my legs don’t want to hold my weight, and my staff ending up in the snow where I scoop it up with my right hand. I scrambled gracelessly to my feet and held my left hand up to the chunk of hell stone overhead. Trying not to look into the faces shifting within the stone I tried to think of any descriptions the game gives on how to use the mark and draw a blank.

Thankfully this is when Solas breaks off from the fighting and notices me with my palm raised to the air. He grabs my hand and shouts over the sound of bows twainging and swords clanging

“Quickly, before more come through!” 

And with that I feel his intent twist through my hand, like prongs of a key clicking tumblers in the correct pattern I didn't even know existed until he forced it through me. I attempted to memorize the feeling of it all, down to the burning through the muscles and joints in my hand. 

The hell rock folded in on itself with the green light poured from my hand, and with an ear splitting crack it was gone like it never existed in the first place. 

I turned to him in not completely faked shock

“What did you do??”

The Dread Wolf looked me in the eye, pulling a small smile and motioning towards me

“ _ I _ did nothing. The credit is yours”

_ Okay you old ass wolf, you know that's not what I meant and you know it, you absolute fucker. _

“You mean this?” I say holding my left hand up and letting my staff fall into the crook of my right arm so I can point towards the mark.

Solas nodded his head grimly, 

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark on your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach’s wake- and it seems I was correct” He moved his hands behind his back as he was speaking, like an old tweed covered professor giving a lecture.

Cassandra finds herself back at my elbow, interrogating Solas further

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.”

“Possibly. It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

“Good to know! I thought we’d be ass-deep in demons forever.” Varric interjected, inviting himself into the conversation taking place between a Seeker of Truth and the oldest liar alive. 

He swaggers himself towards us from where he was adjusting Bianca 

“Varric Tethras: Rouge, Storyteller,”

He motions his arms in a what can you do sort of motion

“and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” 

He ends with a wink towards Cassandra which causes her face to pucker up like she bit into a lemon. Or like she’s debating whether to start with the legs or the arms when it comes to ripping him to bits.

“Like, The Varric Tethras? The one that wrote Swords and Shields? ” I question, trying to inject the excitement of a fan meeting their favourite author and not having to pretend all too much. I’d always had a huge crush on Varric and day dreamed about him running off with my Hawke after all the bullshit they went through. 

_ Plus I figure if I set myself up as a fan of his romance series I’d have an easier time when I have to get him to write the sequel for Cassandra. _

“Well, well, it seems that even in the middle of nowhere Frostbacks I can’t seem to avoid my fans. Though, honestly I’m shocked that a discerning young lady-”

“Man” Both me and surprisingly enough Cassandra interject before he can go on.

If I didn’t love her before, the blush that appears when she corrected Varric on my gender has me hook, line, and sinker.

“Right, sorry, a discerning young man would be interested in a stinker like that.” He waves his hand through the air as if waving the thought away. ‘Not that that’s the most pressing issue at the moment. Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?”

Cassandra looks half ready to fight Varric over his disparaging comment over her favourite romance novels, and half ready to fight him over what both she and I can see coming.

“Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore, and these greenies aren’t good enough for the amount of demons down there. You need me.” He finishes giving the both of us a mix between a smug and kind smile.

One of my honour guard gives an offended squeak, cut off by some shuffling that I think is an elbow to the stomach. The Seeker gives one of her infamous disgusted noises and trudges through the snow to hand out orders to the assembled troops. 

“My name is Solas, If there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live” He said, shaking his head with a small smile.

“He means, “I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.”” came Varric’s good humoured voice, giving me the information I need to finally say thank you to the elf.

“Thank you, I owe you my life twice over it seems. Do you know much about the mark?” I say trying to keep my countenance meek and grateful to the oh so powerful mage before me. 

“Like you, Solas is an apostate.” Cassandra says, hearing the topic of conversation and coming to stand next to me again, having finished sending the troops back to guard the village against any demons that make it through.

Solas’ eyes flash with curiosity when he looks at me, before turning to the Seeker 

“Technically all mages are apostates now, Cassandra.” He turns back to me, “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experiences of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are doomed, regardless of origin.” with those words he gestures to all of us with his hand, emphasizing his point. 

“We better get to it then, before this fucking shit eats the rest of the sky.” I say, looking up at the sky. With my grim humour I startle a laugh from where Varric is by my elbow.

Solas looks a tad shocked at my words, eyebrows crawling to where a hairline would be if he wasn’t as bald as an egg. Choosing to ignore my colourful language, he turns to the Seeker where she is at his left.

“Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen.Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine  _ any  _ mage having such power.”

“Understood.” Cassandra tilts her head in acknowledgment of his statement, her face giving away nothing of what she’s thinking.”We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

“Well, Bianca’s excited!” 


	3. Sympathy for The Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, some of my mental health issues get mentioned here. I have a form of Pure O OCD, and I mention using marijuana to cope with intrusive thoughts. Just thought I'd mention this as it may be triggering to some readers. Choices are made, nicknames are given, and a sad old man looks at the end of the world. I always found Rodrick to be an interesting character, especially so for a minor antagonist.

We quickly make our way over the makeshift blockade, Cassandra wordlessly offering to lift me over by holding out her big buff arms. I hesitate, not wanting to trouble her, and throw half my leg over it. The feeling of a hard wooden plank on my bits quickly has me half leaning half sliding into Solas who had already crossed over it. Stumbling to his side, I quickly realize that I’m only taller than Varric in our small group, most of the scouts being at least ten inches above me if not standing a head taller than me. I know that Solas is an ancient elf and Actual God King, and Cassandra is an absolute Amazonian Goddess but is all of Thedas 6 feet tall?! Is no human or elf in this gods forsaken world under 5’4?!

I quickly start walking the path by the frozen river to avoid ruminating on my height issues. I’m still a short king so who cares if I’d have to lean up for kisses from everyone here aside from Varric.

_ Just more proof that he’s the perfect Husbando and should have been a romance option…. Though he’s an actual factual person now so holy hell do I feel uncomfortable thinking that. I might actually be the worst person in the world what the fuck. Who thinks that about a real life person, disgusting. _

Thankfully everyone’s long legs help them get in position in front of me when we run into the gold mohawk like armoured shades and the men fighting them on the frozen lake. 

Varric and Solas as well as the rest of the archers from the bridge scouts both take positions up on the snowbank and I quickly join them, once again mentally calling out the spell/blessing I had used for the barriers. Once again I felt my necklace heat, and having nothing else to do while the now barriered warriors fought I brought it to my mouth to play with. The bottom part of the crossed infinity sign/snake went in between my dry bitten lips, soothing the restless feeling and compulsion thoughts I didn’t realize was crawling through me like itches until it was gone. 

_ Fuck, if I live through this Thedas better have weed. It’s going to be hell ignoring my compulsion thoughts without it, plus Thedas having no mental health knowledge. Fucking hell, that plus my specific brand of crazy is going to be awful, no don’t think about that. _

The men that were fighting the shades were sent back to Haven, as they had apparently been fighting about 10 shades before we arrived and took care of the stragglers. The fact that they had taken down 10 of these fuckers and only lost about two of their group of five was beyond impressive and I resolutely didn’t look at the body of the soldiers that we were too late to save.

_ If you were stronger or weren’t a coward- okay no. No, I'm stopping that thought. I refuse to let my edgelord mental illness suggest that I’m a failure, I worked too damn hard on my mental health. I am what I am, and I will stop this while being what I am. Lord Dionysus, I hold thee in my thoughts and banish this intrusive thought. Blessed be your greatness. _

“So…  _ Are  _ you innocent?” Varric asks, as we start climbing more ridiculous steps carved into the mountain.

“Of the whole Conclave exploding thing? Yes, we both are. It was an 8 ft tall monster thing, and I’d prefer to focus on getting this closed and hopefully getting Ashara out of jail than telling you all how absolutely terrifying that all was.” I say, not minding my tone of voice or the words I’m choosing so much as trying not to fall down stairs covered in snow. I do take a quick peek after mentioning Coryphus though, curious as to Varrics reaction.

Varric hesitates, his face freezing slightly after hearing about an "8 ft monster". Maybe he's thinking about how he and Hawke "Killed" Coryphus? But he quickly regains his glib mask.

“Ashara, I’m guessing that’s the elf that fell out of the fade with you? She didn’t seem too keen on talking, from what I heard. You sure she’s innocent, Buck?” Varric jokingly asks, coming up behind me and helping me back to my feet after deciding to be safe and climb the stairs quickly on all fours. Also, shoving my hands into snow on top of stone? Awful, despicable and cold as fuck.

I shove my hands into my coat to warm my fingies.

Holding my hands in place with my arms I hug myself.

“Buck?”I repeat, confused as to the logic behind the name.Also Holy Shit I think I just got a nickname from Varric Tethras. Before he even asked me my real name, which, rude but still. 

“On a count of you being the most clumsy person on your feet I’ve met since Daisy. A bucks a baby deer, right?” He helps dust some of the snow from my knees, before nudging my elbow to keep us moving before Solas can run into us where we are at the top of the steps.

“Actually master Tethras, I believe you mean a fawn. A buck is a term typically used for a male deer in it's adolescence.” Solas cuts in, always lecture ready. He also moves off of the landing to the stair so the rest of the group can trek up. How the hell he's dealing with the snow with all of his feet fingers just chilling out in the open is honestly mind boggling.

“Well good thing it still fits, then.” Varric turns to me with a wink on his handsome face. 

_ Finally some good fucking Gender Euphoria. Delicious. _

“Thanks, Varric” I can’t help the huge grin I shoot him, before having to snap back into battle mode as we fight our way up the hill after rounding the last bend in the path.

_ Thank god these demons only seem to have a basic understanding of fighting, or it would be absolute hell trying to not die to them. Fighting uphill sucks major donkey dick is the main reason why most people consider having the high ground the winning position. Thankfully their idea of warfare seems to be attack!attack!attack! Like some kind of fucked up pillow version of Leroy Jenkins. _

Cassandra speaks her thoughts aloud to the group from where she resumed her position at its head. “I hope Leliana made it through all this.”

“She’s resourceful, Seeker.” Varric piped up from where he is walking beside me and Solas. 

“We will see for ourselves at the forward camp. We are almost there.” Solas says, turning and directing the last part to me, seemingly as encouragement while I try not to drag my feet after crossing what felt like ten conventions worth of space, most of it being over rough and rocky terrain. 

We hustle the last little jaunt up snow covered stone, making quicker time then I thought this mountain climbing business would have taken me. 

We quickly fall into our semi established fighting positions when we come to the rift, with Varric and Solas keeping any demons that might target me regret even looking in our direction.

I immediately set to work disrupting the rift knowing that they’re handling any interference, using the same “pattern” Solas showed me earlier on the metaphorical tumblers of the fade.

It. Doesn’t. Work.

_ Fuckshitcuntass _

I quickly switch tactics, and try the path of least resistance I felt through the tumblers. That seems to work slightly, the knotted fade rock loosening and releasing another wave of demons.

Oh so that’s why there were different waves, there were different fade signatures I needed to harmonize for each rift. That shit’s going to suck as I’ll be either trial and error until it fucks off or maybe the rock will shink through my errors until it disappears.

I ignore the fighting, only taking a peak at the assembled fighters to see that their barriers are still holding. Surprising since in the game those things wash off like water after a few seconds.

Finally the stone stops writhing and I fling my hand to try again. Solas looks like he’s going to attempt to help from beside me, but luckily I got enough of a feel of the energy to slip the mark in correctly. Key into a lock, I force my mental picture to turn it and unlock the rift out of existence.

Watching literal tears in the fabric of the universe shrink and fold itself out of existence definitely isn’t getting any less freaky.

“The rift is gone! Open the gate!” Cassandra calls to the soldiers nearest the siege ready doors.

“Right away, Lady Cassandra!” With that the doors swing open, letting me see Leliana and the cleric that dies saving Haven arguing at a makeshift table.

“We are clear for the moment. Well done.” Solas says, from where he was beside me, all the while giving me a measuring look. After I was able to close the rift without his help. Was I not supposed to cotton on to this rift master shit so soon? Is the Dread Wolf on my tail already?

“Whatever that thing on your hand is, it’s useful.” Varric chimes in, breaking me from my worries and walking with me through the gate and stopping off at the supply chest in game.

He grabs four health potions, taking one and putting it in a pouch on his belt before handing me the last three.

I take it and give him a blank look before putting my staff in the crook of my arm and patting around my nonexistent belt.

He lets out a bark of laughter, asking “ You don’t know where the pockets are on the gambision, Buck?”

“Well Master Tethras, as this isn't even my shirt I think you’ll find I have about as much an idea of where to put this as a fish has an idea how to climb a tree” I snark before reaching under the padded jacket, sliding my hand around like a mad man before finding an interior pocket with a space for the three vials he handed me on my chest where my heart would be.

Varric snorts and shoots back. “Oh, so the rumors of shirtless men stepping from the fade are true.” He then turns quiet, joking to himself “Rivaini is going to be thrilled to hear  _ that. _ ” 

We hear shouting from the table, Cassandra having joined in the tense conversation.

“He and the elf are not criminals, Chancellor, they are witnesses to a crime against the Most Holy and are under my protection!”

“If they are witnesses, then HOW did they survive the blast where the Most Holy fell! They must have had something to do with it! I order you to take these criminals to Val Royeaux to face execution!” He sputters, before finishing with all the pomp afforded to men in power.

“”Order me”? To take our best lead on what happened to the Most Holy for execution?! You glorified bureaucrat!” Cassandra roars, stepping closer to the cleric before Leliana steps closer and cuts into her path keeping Cas from strangling Rodrick.

“You are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry! I demand that my authority be listened to!” Rodrick sputters, taking a step back from where he is behind the improvised desk and looking shiftily for an exit should Cassandra continue on her path.

At this, Leliana turns an icy gaze towards him. “ We serve the Most Holy, as you well know.”

Rodick quickly holds up his hands, realizing that he just angered the woman who is the only thing keeping an angry Seeker from throttling him.

“Justinia is dead! We must illicit a replacement, and obey  _ her _ orders on the matter!”

“You do realize you’re looking at the two most likely replacements, right? Like, this is literally the Right and Left hands of the Divine. Telling you not to execute me until they finish their investigation??? Are you thick?” I say, unable to comprehend the shear reactionary bullshit this man is spewing out.

The conversation pauses. Chancellor Rodrick seems to process my words.

He then deflats into a sad older man facing the end of the world without any hope for survival. 

“Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.” 

“We can stop this before it’s too late” Cassandra sets her jaw, while trying to be as kind as she can to the obviously defeated man.

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers.” He says, pointing to the battles taking place in the valley.

“We must get to the Temple. If the prisoner can seal the Breach we can stop the flow of demons. This is the quickest route.” 

“But not the safest. Our forces could charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains” Leliana says, pointing to the mountain paths.

Cassandra grimaces “We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky.”

Rodrick steps forward with a plea “Listen to me. Abandon this now before more lives are lost!”

Oh Fuck. The Breach pulses again, stirring the mark in my hand and causing all eyes to turn to me some several steps behind Cassandra.

She turns to me, face softening slightly from the grim mask it had etched itself into while arguing.

“How do  _ you _ think we should proceed?”

I look towards the mountain. I know we can save the scouts, but my actual life hangs in the balance of getting to the Temple as quickly as possible and I know my stamina isn’t going to last long enough over that terrain. Fuck, shit weasel. If I go with the mountain path, some forces, some actual real live people die fighting in the valley. If I choose the charge, I am going to become a shitting duck in the middle of a war between demons and soldiers, as well as leaving the scouts to their fate.

“There’s a rift in the mountain. The scouts are probably still alive. But if we delay our chance to close the Breach we all will die. Send some of the men from the bridge to help them run from the rift if possible” I say, pausing for a steadying breath as I make a choice that will doom or save the world.

” I’ll maintain as strong of a barrier as possible on myself and my main party while charging through the fighting to the Temple.” 

Cassandra hesitates, and nods at my words. “Leliana, bring everyone but those men. Everyone.” She and my little group quickly walk past the makeshift war table, but don’t get far before Rodrick can get in one last parting shot.

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker.”


	4. Last Sacrament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, there's some graphic descriptions of corpses in this chapter mind the break, that's where it is... Also some mental instability.

The gates actually were emblazoned with the Chanty’s symbol on red banners. Personally I think they’d make better bandages then useless decoration in the middle of a war zone but, C’est la vie.

I’m beyond tired, but I ignore screaming mussels and the wish to sit as I rush past the soldiers fighting off demons to get to the rift nearby. Cas, Varric, and Solas must be watching out for me as I single mindedly tune the rift until it breaks apart. 

I hear the bone shaking screech of a terror demon, and quickly bend down into a roll forwards while dragging my staff forward. I scrape both my hands and likely bruise my knees terribly but as I turn back behind me I see the Terror get plucked full of bolts courtesy of Bianca. The demon breaks into chunks at the barrage, those chunks flying up into the rift and allowing me to close it, still on my hands and knees in a crouch on the ground.

As the fighting stops around me I plop on my ass. I’m pretty sure I almost died. 

_ Not the first time I’ve almost died but definitely the first time I’ve almost been ripped to shreds by a 12 foot tall, skin over elongated skeleton fucking demon from the Actual Factual Fade. _

Solas comes to me quickly from where he had been throwing blasts of arcane energy at Actual Fucking Demons, and holds out a hand. 

“Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

“Let’s hope it works on the big one.” Varric says, reholstering his crossbow to the leather harness on his back.

“Lady Cassandra, you managed to close the rift? Well done.” Ugh gross Cullen is covered in demon bits and sweat, his blond hair matted to his face and that ridiculous furry pauldron.

“Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is our witness’ doing.” 

“Witness? I see. I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people bringing you here.” He says, sounding at first confused then frustrated.

“ And we’ll lose more if we don’t hurry. Let’s go to the Temple before the battle rush wears off and I need to sleep for a week.” I briskly drone out, taking the hand that Solas seems to almost have forgotten he was holding out during this exchange. 

“Yes, well. The way to the Temple should be clear.” He turns to Cassandra. “Leliana will try to meet you there.”

Cassandra breaks away from the commander, placing a gentle yet urdging arm on my lower back and turning her head to throw back a quick “Give us time, Commander.” To Cullen.

I hear from behind me a gruff “ Maker watch over you- for all our sakes.” as we quickly make our way down the crumbling stone, finally reaching the remains of the Temple.

* * *

Decay is a very different beast than what happened to the corpses at the Temple. Where rot and bloating makes a cadaver soft not unlike a kind of mochi that half melted into earth, the blast caused by the orb seemed to fast fry the hair on the skin of the cadaver. 

Those closest to the blast likely didn’t feel anything other than a moment of intense heat, while farther from the blast they likely felt as their skin and sinew melted into their clothes. 

Every time I blink I see them, twisted towards the sky. My brain runs a feedback loop of what their last thoughts must have been, if they could think beyond the pain.

And when my eyes are open, the only thing I can manage to do is catalogue injuries and places that are impassable due to broken stone.

I feel like something else is moving me towards where I think Leliana is. I know I need to go to her, and so I do. 

Everyone is silent for but a moment, even Varric. 

I don’t know what my face looks like.

Is it a mask of horror, like those stuck in their last and most terrifying moments?

* * *

Cassandra points to a section free of most of the destruction, grimly informing me that area is where I and Lavellan walked out of a rift, with a woman behind me that no one could identify.

I say nothing, still sick to my stomach with the horror I had seen.

  
  


Finally, after walking the field of corpses like walking through a nightmare we reach the more intact section of the Temple from the game.

Some hundred feet above the railing hangs a mass of green. Pure fade leaks into the world in a way that boggles the mind, leading me to seeing odd shapes and faces. 

Some seem almost human, or at least non demonic and part of me wonders in a distant way if it’s the souls of those that died here. 

_ Or maybe they’re spirits? Or my pattern seeking brain trying to process… That. _

Varric nudges past me, looking at some of the lesser fade pieces drifting past.

“The Breach  _ is _ a long way up.” He says, with grim humour.

Anything else he was going to saw is cut off by Leliana running up to us from the remains of a corridor we just exited.

“You’re here. Thank the Maker.”

“Leliana, have your men take up positions around the Temple.”

Leliana looks at Cassandra, then at me before nodding and turning to give battle tactics to the small groups of scouts and soldiers behind her.

Cassandra looks back to me, eyes softening slightly.

“This is our best chance to end this. Are you ready?”

“Do you have any stamina potions, or some water?” I rasp out of a too dry throat, somewhat surprised that I do not begin vomiting the second I open my mouth.

“Yes, of course. Solas, you are sure this will work?” The Seeker asks, reaching to a water skin in the pack like pockets in the interior of her belt. I drank greedily, draining it quickly.

“This rift is the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach. “ Solas spoke confidently. Of course, he should know, since it is his orb that destroyed the Temple and killed hundreds if not thousands of people.

_ Don’t fucking think about that  _ **_shut the fuck up shut uP SHUT UP_ **

**“Now is the hour of our Victory.”**

**“Bring Forth the Sacrifice”**

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra questions, holding on to my arm by the elbow, keeping me on my feet as I trip and stumble on foal like legs. 

“At a guess: the person who created the Breach. _ ” No it’s  _ **_not youdidthis_ ** _! You gave the maniacal blighted magister  _ **_thefuckingball!_ **

Oh, Cassandra is leading me down the stairs not far from the red lyrium, grip firm despite the shaking I’m doing. Her gloves are so soft, it was great touching them earlier I should touch them again later. Maybe even with her hand in it, if I’m feeling in a hoe mood.

“You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker” Varric says with the most fear I’ve heard in his voice yet.

“I see it, Varric.” She says, taking care to direct me far, far away from the glowing red stones.

“But what’s it  _ doing  _ here?” He spits out at her, trying to herd both him and Solas away from it without words.

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the Temple, corrupted it... “  _ Or maybe it’s the Blight from the fucking dead Warderns and the Darkspawn leading them! That  _ **_YOU GAVE YOUR POWER TO THINKING THEY’D JUST DIE AND YOU COULD COLLECT YOUR ACTIVATED ORB. YOU’VE ALREADY KILLED SO MANY PEOPLE FOR YOUR STUPIDFUCKINGPLAN!_ **

“It’s evil. Whatever you do, don’t touch it.” That line seemed almost funny in the game, since you could walk through the bits on the ground or climb them, but now seemed like the most obvious survival tip he could have given. And not one that any of us take lightly, even Solas taking care not to step his bare little toes into the specks of it scattered about like caltrops.

**“Keep the Sacrifice Still.”** ****

**“Someone! Help me!”**

Cassandra gasps, looking skyward as if searching for the source of the voice. “That is Divine Justinia’s voice!” 

She quickly maneuvers me down stairs,soon reaching the edge. She throws my staff down after taking it from my trembling hands and takes me into her arms for the jump down. She lands heavily, rolling slightly so I land on her mail and gambision. I feel my entire body shutter. This is the most contact with a woman who wasn’t my mother in months.

The few seconds I give myself resting on her bosom feels like stolen gold in my pocket, guilty, heavy and yet priceless in times of strife. 

I push myself off of her, quickly checking that she hadn't hurt herself in her attempt to keep me safe. Luckily I see no injuries and get to my knees helping her up as well,

My mark starts to react with the fade chunk, drawing more memories from the fade.

**“Someone! Help me!”**

**“Kill the intruder!”**

**“What’s going On Here?!”**

**“He’s killing her! He’s Killing HER!**

“That was both of your voices! The Most Holy cried out to you. You both were trying to help her, you weren’t lying!” The Seeker’s' shock was cut short by the mark reacting again, showing a shadowed version of Coryphus, Lavellan walking in but no signs of me. Thankfully it seems I’m too far to the side for this fade vision to show me cowering far away from Lavellan as that would have thrown quite the wrench in my story.

Cassandra turned to me angry and afraid, with her gentle grasp turning into one that will likely further bruise my frail peach like skin.

“How did the Conclave explode!? How did this monster kill the Most Holy?!” She turns to Solas “Was this vision true? What are we seeing?!”

Solas looks grim, turning to look at Cassandra, and me still partially in her firm grip even after dipping low to the floor to grab my staff in my right hand.

“Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place. This rift is not sealed, but it is closed. Albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely.” He leans heavily on his staff, grimacing at me. “However,opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

Cassandra seems to realize her hold on me, releasing me like a hot coal. She turns to her men “That means demons. Stand ready!”

Everyone files into position as she turns back to me. “ Try to stick next to Varric or Solas during the fighting, they will keep you safe. I will attack with the men. Be safe, watch your flanks, and cast as many barriers as you are able.”


	5. Hell's Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. Over stimulation city here so watch out. It's fear time.

If you’ve ever fallen from a high place as a child, you know the absolute stillness that comes from your entire body being suspended. You also know the fear panic of having to land, and knowing it's not going to be soft. The pure wish of please not yet not yet please just let me stay in this second before the inevitable that you can’t stop no matter what you try.

The first time I felt like this it was off of a tire swing into a large collection of scrap boards and a sawhorse my dad had set up. My sister came running outside, scaring the crap out of my family as no one had known I was playing outside. My sister had a funny feeling and ran to me as I was too shocked to move and sure I had broken every bone in my body.

That was the exact feeling of looking up at the Breach and knowing I had to try and fix it. That I just had to throw my hand up and lock pick my way into having to fight a huge ass pride demon with mother fucking lightning claws. Not as likely to leave me with only childhood bruises that the feeling of pain disappears in the second it took my sister to run to me and hug me as I sob.

In my frozen state, Varric puts his free hand on my arm and flinches me out of my stupor.

“You’ve got this Buck. We’ll all keep you safe, and I’ll stick to you like sap.” He comforted me, giving my arm a squeeze before placing himself in front of me. 

_ Okay. Deep breath. If there was ever a time to pray it would be now. _

_ Hades, welcome my soul should I fail. Athena, give me the strategy I need to survive. Ares, guide my hands in this work. Hermes, quicken my steps. My victory shall be yours, Amen… or whatever. Fuck. _

Not letting myself lock up again, I set about trying to find the path of least resistance for this rift.

It catches, and for a split second the faces on the fade rock seem to scream, mouths open and twisting more than any human mouth should be able to.

Then everything below the rift explodes outwards, releasing the pride demon 

**_ITCOULDFIT12OFMEHOLY FUCK!!!_ **

**** and covering the space below it in a green that I can taste on the roof of my mouth like the film from bad ice cream.

I panic. I throw my hand up to see if I can try to volley the rift again unlike in the game. I cannot, and now the demon is laughing and looking my way. The laugh hallows out my bones and I realize I didn’t put up more barriers. 

I’m too panicked to remember the spell I used. I use the panic I feel to fold my “self” into a small space in my chest, throwing out metaphysical “dontlookturnawayIamnothingandnoone” vibes as hard as possible.

Pride looks through me, and turns to the soldier closed to him. It starts charging lightning between claws larger than a church bell. 

_ I won’t let this man die. I can’t. I won’t let any of them die. My Will, My Word, My Writ _ **_. MY DUTY._ **

A barrier, brilliantly and royally purple snaps up around the soldiers. I can feel them, every inch and curl of them. I’m so focused on my will that my panic recedes and I simple know what must be done.

The men and women fight, hacking at knees covered in skin armoured more effectively than plate mail. A claw swipes at one - scoutcoveredinfursosweatybootstoobig- and my will feels the force on her. She’s thrown off her feet and pushed a few feet away, and one of the men -soldierarmstoosmallinhismailtooyoung- steps up to give her a moment to breathe. 

All the while Bianca is plugging away with a tempo I had counted in music class ages ago when I was young, 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4.

I turn to the breach, keeping my will and awareness of the fighters in the back of my head far away from my conscious though, and volley the rock that has reformed.

The crash wave knocks the wind from Pride, and the soldiers as well as Cassandra get in some cuts to the torso of the beast. I feel the movements of the soldiers and scouts in their barriers on my skin like sweet and well meaning caresses, and they hurt just as much as those always have on my already overstimulated body.

The unreal creature regains its breath, the crackle of low chuckles reverberating in my head but not my chest. It’s like the sound doesn't exist, like it’s in my head _. Its in my head in my head in my _

It stands up, getting to its feet from its place on its knees and everyone backs up on the off chance it squishes them. 

Volley again, watch for ash wraiths or shade or whatever the fuck those are. None yet so it must be on the next pulse.

Metal swords scrap more than cut and my body feels the sound of wet sucking and tearing. A minor piece of what I though was just regular metal armour peals away like an egg, or maybe the tail of a lobster.

So much of this battle feels like waiting. Hoping that no one falls through my inaction. 

_ If I was a proper Thedas mage… If only I wasn’t here. If only, if only. _

I should be able to spirit blast them or something. Rain down arcane energy on the stupid overgrown person shaped purple lobster man. 

Maybe since I have time I can picture him being cracked open like a lobster being shelled? That can’t hurt me or my allies hopefully? But that's a lot of intent and I always feel more drained after curses or spells focused with malintent. Especially since I have no time to prep and lord knows if it works on something with such a wishy washy sense of identity.

I glance up at the fluctuating world of trees with no dirt layered on top of impossible temples with flying buttresses holding up the sky that I can see slowly coalesced into a rift stone shimmering with shifting faces layered on top of them.

Maybe I have enough time? Risk it or not, tic tock…

_ Fuck it. I may be a coward but they need me to live past this rift and it’ll damn near kill me if I don’t have enough strength. The warriors are on their own in felling it, I’ll concentrate on keeping them safe despite the feeling of my skin being rubbed raw. _

Volley. I feel the delicate stretch of the world between worlds as shades make their way through and clamp my will down on them with everything I have left.

Including my butt and other things.

_ Nope. I fucking will not let you bitches through. Vamoose or disintegrate on my stubbornness. _

And some how. That fucking works.

No shades exit the rolling fade stone face first and they take their stretch nudge elsewhere either dying or fucking off.

Varric nudges me on the thigh with his elbow and we moved, him always a few steps in front of me as I stopped hyper focusing on the rift and took in more of the beast.

It was slowing, the  carapace of its legs and torso pealing to reveal black Ichor and fleshy muscle pulsating in a way that went against every idea I had been taught in art anatomy. 

_ Fucking hell. How the fuck does Thedas deal with this. Holy shit. I feel like I’m going to vomit. _

Okay, we’re far enough back that we’re safe from the eye blinding crack of the electric whip and ?Energy Ball????? This thing can long range us with.

Soon. One more volley according to the game and I  _ feel  _ I can slip my silky will key into this lock.

Andddd NOW

It fights me, but it’s moving. Accepting my will into itself fully, a key in a lock re cut over and over to fit but the lock is rusty and slow.

My will works on, an unrelenting force meeting a near immovable object. 

Near. Because I am closing it. I almost have it before I can feel my head and the bones in my shoulders start to burn.

I’m dying, I think. But I refuse. They need me alive, they need a leader.

Lead them or they will fall…

I send my last gasp of hope up, taking my connection to the Rift

and breaking it 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah there's no consistency here I don't control the hyper focus and it was Avatar the Last Airbender time these couple of days, sorry.


End file.
